


Triptych

by forgotmyline



Series: Fic Swaps [5]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-01-09
Packaged: 2018-09-15 22:24:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9260429
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/forgotmyline/pseuds/forgotmyline
Summary: Three different stories, written from three different prompts for the DA ficswap.





	1. The Battle Is Finally Over

**Author's Note:**

> Fi’laëwel Lavellan has survived her battle with Corypheus and wonders at her future.

Fi’laëwel Lavellan had spent months, years even, preparing for this moment - months of training, of investigating, of fighting - and to be quite honest, it all felt a little, well, _underwhelming_ . Oh, she got her big, glorious fight, to be sure, one that even included some sort of dragon that looked like an archdemon, but wasn’t _actually_ an archdemon. It’s just that at the end, when it was just her and Corypheus, it had almost seemed too easy. She had somehow called the orb that had started it all to her using the mark on her hand and opened a rift over the one time magister without even really thinking about it, as if she had been acting purely on instinct. And then he was gone, the rift closed up and him with it.

At least she was alive, which was more than she had expected going into this fight. She shook her head to try to clear the thoughts from it, the few stray blonde locks that always fell out of her ponytail now plastered to her face with sweat. A mistake - she felt lightheaded enough that she thought she might lose consciousness, and when she looked down, she noticed an alarming amount of blood on her side, a slow trickle still coming from a wound somewhere under her armor.  Not good, she thought, just as her vision began to blur and swim. Her final thought as the world went black was that she was right after all, and a hope that her death wouldn’t completely destroy Cullen.

*****

Not dead after all, Fi thought as her eyes fluttered open. She almost wished that were the case - there wasn’t a single part of her body that didn’t hurt just then, with most of the pain radiating out from the wound in her side. She didn’t even remember it happening, likely because she was so caught up in the heat of battle, the bloodlust and adrenaline keeping her going when she probably should have fallen long before she did. Or maybe it was sheer stubbornness that had kept her alive through the fight. Not that it mattered, because here she was, alive and more or less well, somehow back at Skyhold and in her own bed. And Cullen, asleep on a chair that he had pulled next to her bed.

She untangled herself from the blankets and tried to sit up, a feat that was easier said than done because of the pain she felt all over. A groan escaped her lips, louder than she would have liked. Cullen stirred beside her at the noise, quick to rise as always. It was something she hated - he never got enough rest for her liking. “Fi! How are you feeling?” he exclaimed, bolting upright and taking one of her hands in his own. “Let me call the healer.”

“Cullen, no. I’ll be fine, just… let me get my bearings,” She hated the annoyance in her voice; he was just worried for her, but she couldn’t stand to be fussed over. She managed to scoot over to make room for him, patting the spot at the edge of her bed that she had just vacated. “Sit closer. Please.”

He nodded and did as she said, his heavy weight settling on the bed next to her a pleasant sensation. The warmth from his body pressed against her, and he wrapped an arm around her shoulders to pull her even closer before dropping a kiss onto the top of her head. “I was terrified for you, love. All that blood…” he shook his head, his already pale face blanching at the memory before he attempted to compose himself. “And then you just… I thought… I thought we had lost you for good. That _I_ had lost you and… Maker, Fi, I felt the world drop out from under me.”

“Come now, Cullen,” she said, using the sternest voice she could muster, both to reassure him and keep her own emotions at bay. “You know I’m made of sterner stuff than that. And anyway, I promised I would come back to you.”

His chuckle was such a welcome sound right then, lovely and deep, something she didn’t hear often enough. Something she wanted to hear as often as possible, for as long as she could. “You did indeed. Still, it was touch and go for awhile - you’ve been asleep for over a week and the healers weren’t sure at first if you would ever wake.” He dropped another kiss on her head, then cupped her face to tilt it upwards to his own. His kiss was soft and warm and gone before she really got the chance to enjoy it. “I don’t know what I would have done if you hadn’t, Fi.”

She hated the way his voice wavered, hated that she was the cause of it, even if she was just doing the duty they both knew was necessary. He had already been through so much and he didn’t deserve that worry, that pain. She pulled his hands from her face to hold them in her own with a reassuring squeeze. “Hush, vhenan. You would have mourned for a time, and then you would have moved on.”

“I don’t know about moving on, not completely,” he told her with a shake of his head. Her heart ached at the thought, even as it rejoiced at the depth of his love for her, love she didn’t believe she would ever find. “It doesn’t matter, at any rate. You’re alive and you’ll be well again soon.”

“I suppose I will. And what will we do now, Cullen, now that the battle is done and Corypheus is gone? I suppose it’s too much to hope for a life lived out in obscurity somewhere in the middle of nowhere?”

His grin flashed bright, and she had a fleeting thought that he was almost too beautiful to look at straight on. “Oh, I don’t know about that. We’ll have more duties here for some time, but after that? We can do whatever you’d like, I suppose.”

His use of ‘we’ caused a flutter in her belly. She was grumpy by nature, easily irritated and often difficult, but she could hear the complete lack of doubt that he would be by her side regardless of where she went. “Perhaps… perhaps we can visit my clan after this? And then your family? Mia and I have exchanged a few letters and she misses you. And I’d love to meet her, too. What do _you_ want to do next?”

A thoughtful look passed over his features, his head tilted for a moment as he played with a loose strand of her hair. “A family visit sounds good, both to yours and mine. It has been far too long since either of us have seen our families. After that? We can go live in the middle of nowhere, if that’s what would please you. I’d like to do something for other former Templars, to help out if I can do so. Beyond that, I don’t much care where I am, so long as you’re there with me.”

“That sounds perfect.”

And it did, she realized to her own astonishment. She had never thought to live a quiet life, but sitting close to the man she loved, her body aching after the biggest, most dangerous fight of her life, she realized there was nothing she wanted more than to just _be_ , with Cullen right by her side.


	2. A Cold Night

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Swann Trevelyan tries his hardest to charm the reluctant Seeker, but she wants none of it.

The Hinterlands had to be one of the worst places in all of Thedas, at least as far as Swann Trevelyan was concerned. It was cold and snowy, there wasn’t decent wine to be found anywhere in this Maker forsaken place, and there was only one woman worth his notice and she wanted nothing to do with him or his attentions. Speaking of, he couldn’t help but watch as the woman in question emerged from her tent and sauntered over to his perch by the fire to take over the watch. “Seeker!” he exclaimed, his voice much more cheerful than he felt at the moment, Cassandra’s presence notwithstanding. “Come to relieve me of my duty already? Surely it’s too early for your turn to start; or did you just want to spend a few extra moments in my company while we’re still alone?”

Too much charm dripped from his voice, he knew, yet he found he couldn’t help himself. She rolled her eyes at him, so hard he could almost swear they had turned completely around in that pretty head of hers. No, not pretty. Pretty didn’t do a woman like her justice. She was fierce, a warrior to her very core, that same fierceness woven into every fiber of her being. She wore her weapons as if they were an extension of herself, and he realized that they actually  _ were _ , in the same way that his magic was part of who he was. She moved with the grace of well bred nobility, as well as the agility and strength that came from years of training and battle. She was glorious, divinity walking amongst them here in Thedas. And she looked at him like she wished to crush him under her boot heels like an insect. And Maker, he would let her too, and rejoice in the attention. 

It was rather pathetic, all in all. 

He was no stranger to beautiful men and women, after all, and though he didn’t mean to brag, he had never had trouble with paramours of either sex. Flirting and romance came to him as naturally as, well,  _ breathing _ , but for some reason Cassandra was immune to his charms (of which there were many, or so he had been told). 

“Herald,” she nodded, her tone curt. “Perhaps you should get some rest before we need to leave in the morning.”

Ah, so that’s how it was to be. She was actually  _ dismissing  _ him, Swann Trevelyan, Herald of Andraste, and the only man in all of Thedas who could close that giant hole in the sky and save the world. Or so he hoped at any rate. “Oh, my dear Cassandra, I find I’m not tired at the moment. Perhaps I could linger, keep you company for a bit of time. Surely we can think of something to make the time pass more quickly?”

The firelight cast its glow upon her, the flickering light casting an otherworldly luminescence upon her face. Ah, but she was resplendent and he wondered just what he could do to convince her to, well, spend a little more time with him. Intimately. He found himself at a loss, because his usual methods weren’t working. Perhaps he would need to try harder, or try something different. Or maybe she just didn’t find him attractive. That would certainly be a blow to his ego.

She breathed out a heavy sigh, followed by that noise that was so particular to her, the one that signaled annoyance, bordering on disgust. “You are a grown man and may do as you please.”

The chill, winter air wasn’t as cold as her words. “May I ask you a question, Seeker?” Any hint of seduction was gone from his voice, and he suspected that’s what made her pause and look at him, really look at him, that is. “Why do you dislike me so much?”

There was a vulnerability in his voice that he wasn’t sure he cared for, his lack of confidence made apparent by the wavering in it. Cassandra paused, tilted her head as if she were studying him. It was unnerving. “I don’t dislike you, Herald. Nor do I have any wish to be just one of many, either. You try too hard, your words so thick with charm that they lack true substance. No, I do not dislike you, but I find that neither do I truly know you. Not the real you, at any rate.”

Ah, so that’s how it was to be. He gave her a quick nod before standing abruptly. “I see,” he murmured. “I will certainly take your words into consideration.”

She merely nodded, almost imperceptible in the darkness. “Goodnight, Swann.”

He couldn’t remember her ever using his given name, and the sound of it falling so casually from her lips nearly undid what little composure he had left. He bowed deeply before her, standing again and whispering, “Goodnight, Cassandra,” before walking back to his tent.

He paused before it, wanting to take one last look at her before he got what was sure to be just a few hours of fitful sleep. She was on the other side of the fire now, cleaning her sword with a love and reverence he could only hope to receive a fraction of one day. And she didn’t even notice him anymore, gone from her mind just as quickly as he was gone from his sight. Swann found himself in an unfamiliar position, with a problem he never had to worry about before, but one he was rather looking forward to solving. He was going to find a way to convince Cassandra to give him a chance, and he was going to do it without using his usual tricks and charms. And by Andraste, he would succeed if it was the last thing he ever did.


	3. The Last Word Said to Each Other

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Morrigan looks back with regret on the last words she said to her warden before he left to find a cure for the Calling.

She was a complete idiot. It wasn’t something she liked to admit, of course, but Morrigan wasn’t generally one to lie to herself. She simply didn’t see a need for it. And as the facts stood, she was the idiot in this situation and there was nothing she could do about it. Not yet, at any rate. He was gone - her love, her warden, her partner - and though she wasn’t the cause of his leaving, she certainly hadn’t made it easier, though she had tried.

Kristoff had been gone for a month already and they way they had parted still made her feel ill. Guilt, she thought, a rather unfamiliar feeling she found she didn’t at all enjoy. Still, she couldn’t sit here and brood, as there were things to do. She had plans for herself and their son, independent of anything he was doing. They were to make their way to Orlais, while Kristoff headed to points further west. 

It happened suddenly, too. It was just after dawn, and she had been studying her latest acquisitions - several Elvhen books that she hoped contained the information she needed. Kieran was by her side, looking over them with her. So serious, her son, much like his father. They had decided to let Kristoff sleep later, as his rest had been uneasy as of late. Nightmares, she thought, though he wouldn’t admit it to her. Not yet. She idly wondered if it had something to do with the Grey Warden taint that flowed through his blood, but dismissed it just as quickly. Surely it was too soon for him to be having the nightmares that signaled the end. 

And yet, he bolted up in bed, his face pale, clinging to the blankets as though they were a lifeline. Even his blasted dog knew something was wrong - he woke just as quickly, ears up and alert, waiting to sniff out any potential intruders. “Are you alright, my love?” she called out to him, marking her place in the book she had been perusing before she got up to make her way to him. 

His eyes were wild, as if he wasn’t quite sure of where he was. It took but a moment for his features to settle,  and that’s when she moved to comfort him. Her hand on his arm, their foreheads touching so that he knew she was there for him. “They feel so real sometimes, Morrigan. It’s too soon for the calling, but… I can hear the song, even when I’m awake. I don’t… I don’t want to leave you, but I fear I must. And soon.”

There was a feeling gnawing at the pit of her stomach - she knew he spoke the truth, and though she didn’t want him to go, she had an idea. “Tis true, but perhaps not for the reason you believe. Kieran and I have come across something rather curious in our reading.” They both looked back at the boy, this curious little creature that they had created and were raising together. Still lost in the books before him, oblivious to the goings on around him. “There is a land to the West, past the Hunterhorn Mountains. It is rumored that it has never known the Darkspawn taint. It will be treacherous, but worth it if you find the means to cure yourself of the calling.”

His brow furrowed and his dark hair, still messy from sleep, fell over his eyes when he tilted his head at her. “Are you... Do you actually  _ want _ me to leave?” he asked, his voice a harsh whisper that sent a chill through her body.

She honestly wasn’t sure how best to respond, and took a moment to consider her words. “If it means you’ll be cured of the taint, and that we’ll have longer together, then I suppose I do.”

Perhaps she should have considered them more carefully. He looked… crushed was the only word she could think of to describe him. “I see,” he said, and his voice was nearly devoid of emotion. It was a trick he had, a way of distancing himself. He chose to distance himself physically as well, pulling away from her and stalking towards his trunk. He began pulling things out of it - clothes, armor, weapons - and throwing them into a pack. “Then I suppose I’ll just leave now.”

It was astonishing how quickly he was able to pack and dress. “Kristoff, that’s not what I meant and you know it. I’m trying to...”

It was useless. She had angered him, though she wasn’t sure how it had happened. It wasn’t like him, not exactly. He could be moody, but he wasn’t reckless. Certainly not reckless enough to up and leave for lands unknown without any planning whatsoever. It was the nightmares, she thought, making him behave this way. Perhaps she should just let him run off then. Surely he would return once he realized the folly of his ways.

He didn’t answer her, just continued his mission. His face did soften some when he stooped down next to Kieran. The boy’s face lit up as his father whispered something in his ear, and then he rummaged through his pile of books before holding one up triumphantly. She recognized it, and was glad her son had thought to give it to his father. It was the book she had spoken of, the one with possible information about those darkspawn free lands. 

She felt helpless as she watched him place the book in his pack and ruffle Kieran’s hair. It was an absurd gesture, and yet it was still somehow heartwarming to see it. He whistled for the dog, that damned Mabari beast that she pretended to still hate, but secretly loved as much as Kristoff did. Of course he followed his master, though he spared both her and the boy a quick glance before bounding outside. 

A week, at most, and he would be back here, apologizing for his rashness. Then they would work out this new problem as they always did - together. 

Kristoff started to follow the dog, but hesitated at the open doorway. He turned toward her, his face settled on a neutral expression, one that showed less anger, but was still determined and purposeful. “I’ll send word when I can. I… Take care of yourself, Morrigan, and our boy, too.”

A nod was all she could managed before he turned and left. And that had been a month ago. She had received a few scribbles to let her know he lived, and that he was on his way, but nothing more. And she knew regret over the way they had parted, for she had not tried to stop him, not really, though she was certain it had been in her power. Still, she had faith that she would see her love again one day, though she wasn’t usually given to such flights of fancy. 

There simply was no other option though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! This was written for the lovely pataflan on tumblr (who drew an incredible picture of my Eloise and Cullen being silly!).


End file.
